


et per hominem resurrectio mortuorum

by Nary



Category: The Lion in Winter (1968)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Post-Canon, Power Dynamics, Rough Oral Sex, Royalty, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5907340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard stalked the halls of Rouen like a tamed lion, but one that still had claws, and might turn on you if you came too close.  And Geoffrey could never resist baiting his brother.  With King Henry gone to Caen to collect their mother, whom he had once again released from her imprisonment, this time for Easter, and John floundering away in Ireland, there was no one else for the two of them to direct their energies towards.  The knights and courtiers took bets as to which would strike the first blow, with the prevailing wisdom being that no matter who began it, Richard would surely end it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	et per hominem resurrectio mortuorum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueteak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/gifts).



April 1185

Richard stalked the halls of Rouen like a tamed lion, but one that still had claws, and might turn on you if you came too close. And Geoffrey could never resist baiting his brother. With King Henry gone to Caen to collect their mother, whom he had once again released from her imprisonment, this time for Easter, and John floundering away in Ireland, there was no one else for the two of them to direct their energies towards. The knights and courtiers took bets as to which would strike the first blow, with the prevailing wisdom being that no matter who began it, Richard would surely end it.

It was Geoffrey who was in their father's favour at present; Geoffrey who had been given control of Nantes and Brittany and was serving as Henry's regent in Normandy. Richard's stubborn refusal to hand over Poitou and the Aquitaine, meanwhile, had been the subject of many a heated argument, and even Eleanor could not defend her most-cherished son from Henry's anger. There were even whispers, for perhaps the first time ever, that Geoffrey could succeed his father to the throne. 

Into this seething cauldron rode Philip Augustus, come to join in the Easter celebrations. Neither Richard nor Geoffrey was prepared to allow the other the honour of welcoming the King of France, so they made their way to the castle's gates together, side by grudging side.

"I'll greet him," Geoffrey said with a friendly condescension. "As Viceregent, it's only fitting. You're just a guest here - you aren't obligated to pay your respects."

"You say that as though I had any respects to pay," Richard said dryly. "I'm not about to give you two time to scheme." 

"What, dear brothers, so dour?" Philip greeted them with a smile. "At least do me the courtesy of pretending to be glad to see me."

Geoffrey dropped lightly to one knee, making his obeisance to the king, and Richard followed more slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on Philip the entire time. "Your highness," they both said, with varying degrees of respect and humility. 

"Come, get off your knees, it's muddy," Philip told them, offering each one a hand. "We won't stand on ceremony today." They held his hands for a fraction of a moment too long, neither wanting to be the first to let go, or the last. Finally Philip laughed and embraced them both. "It's been too long."

"A hundred years," muttered Richard. 

"Try six months," Geoffrey retorted.

"Battles don't count," Philip said. "There's never any chance for proper conversation."

"Conversation, battle, what's the difference where you're concerned?" Richard's wounds from Chinon still stung. "Some lackey will show you to your room." He turned and strode off briskly. 

"Don't mind my brother," Geoffrey said once Richard was out of earshot. "He's cross that Henry's going to make him give up the Aquitaine. Actually, he's cross about everything lately."

Philip smiled. "So you mean to say, Richard is being Richard. Don't worry, I know my way around him."

"I daresay you do." Geoffrey gestured towards the keep. "Shall we?"

"This place has seen better days," Philip said, idly running a finger along a crack in the stone wall as they proceeded to his chamber. "When it's mine, I'll have to tear it down and build a new castle."

"Your room is at the top of these stairs," Geoffrey said calmly, not rising to the bait. "I hope it will be satisfactory - but if not, I'm sure you can imagine a much nicer one."

"If I have any complaints, I'll certainly let you know - or perhaps I'll simply take over your room or Richard's," Philip said cheerfully, stepping into the tower bedchamber. "It's a touch drafty, isn't it?"

"Find someone to warm your bed, or grow a thicker skin," Geoffrey suggested. "We'll talk later - I have matters to discuss with you. In the meanwhile, if you need anything, you know where to find us." With that he left, descending the stairs. He stepped aside for Richard, who was on his way up, and noted that fact with interest.

"I knew some lackey would take him to his room," Richard said dryly as he passed.

"I knew he'd find someone to warm his bed," Geoffrey replied. He thought for a moment he'd gotten away with the none-too-subtle insinuation, but then he found himself shoved hard against the wall, the rough stone scraping against his cheek, and Richard's weight bearing down behind him.

"You will not," Richard growled, "speak of... that."

"You can't even name it," said Geoffrey, his voice muffled. "Call it what it is, Richard."

"Sodomy?" Richard all but spat out the word.

"Love."

Richard let go as though he'd been stabbed. Geoffrey straightened himself up, brushing off his tunic, and continued his descent, smiling slightly to himself. He heard Richard's footsteps proceeding up the stairs after a pause, and contemplated going back to eavesdrop on whatever might be about to ensue, but decided he would be sure to find out by dinner regardless.

* * *

"I didn't expect you until later, Richard," Philip said when the door opened. "Late tonight, for instance, when you might slip into my room unseen..."

"Shut your whore mouth." Richard shut the door with a heavy shove. "What did you and Geoffrey talk about?"

"So suspicious." Philip casually smoothed the silk bed hangings, as though they might not have been perfect already. "Construction plans, interior decorating... my mouth wasn't whorish at all. Our conversation was entirely harmless."

"No conversation with Geoff is ever harmless."

"Perhaps I won't notice until later that I'm bleeding." Philip leaned against the bed, running his hands down his sides. "But for now, I feel quite unscathed."

Richard pursed his lips. "Don't trust him. You know you can't trust him."

"Oh, but surely I should trust you, is that where this is going? Do you want to kiss and make up, even after everything that's been said and done, Richard dearest?"

"I want to take Geoffrey down a peg," Richard said, staring straight ahead, refusing to let Philip's hands close around his heart. "To remind him where he belongs."

"And where is that?" Philip inquired.

"On his knees," Richard said. "I want to see him humbled."

"Militarily? Politically?" Philip stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them. "Or would intimately do?"

Richard shifted uneasily. "What do you mean?"

"A decent plot takes longer to come to fruition, and my army is back in Paris. At the moment, our options are limited." He slipped so easily into the plural, as though nothing had ever come between them. "But if you want to see your brother on his knees, tonight, I can put my whore mouth to good use and make that happen for you."

"I don't... that wasn't what I meant." Richard stepped back, but the stone wall hung with a tapestry prevented a full retreat.

"Wasn't it? You don't need to be directly involved, if the idea of incest troubles your refined morals. As I recall, you like spying from behind wall hangings."

Richard bristled. "No spying. No lies." 

"I don't know if I can seduce Geoff without _any_ lies," Philip said, so close that only a breath separated them. "But you can't tell me the idea of seeing him crawl... seeing him beg... seeing him completely helpless and undone doesn't have a certain appeal."

Richard paused, giving the idea more serious consideration. He couldn't deny that the mental images it evoked were pleasant, in a monstrous sort of way. "If it's going to happen," he said at last, "I'm going to be there. I'll be the one in control. I'll take responsibility." 

"It's very thoughtful of you," Philip said, stroking Richard's arm, "looking out for your brother like that. But let me appear to be in charge, so he doesn't suspect."

* * *

Geoffrey made sure that Philip was seated beside him at the dinner table, while Richard was some way down. It was a deliberate slight, and he knew it would irritate his brother, which was half the reason he did it. The other half was to permit him the chance to speak further with Philip, and to be seen to engage with him, in the full view of a wide assortment of knights and lords. His authority - granted by Henry, admittedly, but his nonetheless - would be plain to all.

The meal of roast capon seasoned with citron and thyme was excellent for breaking their Lenten fast, and Geoffrey ensured that Philip's goblet was kept well-filled with wine. By the time they had reached the pears poached in mead, the king was in a talkative mood - and a friendly one, by the way his hand kept drifting to Geoff's thigh beneath the table.

"It's so much more agreeable to deal with you than with your father," Philip confided, leaning close to him. "Someone with a rational mind - not swayed by whims and lusts. If only there was a way to ensure that you kept this title, along with your others, even after his return..."

"What about my brothers?" Geoffrey inquired. "There are good reasons you might prefer dealing with them."

"Because Richard is a lovesick fool and John is just a plain one, you mean?"

"Because you think them easier to manipulate," said Geoff, with a sidelong glance at his brother down at the table's end. Richard shoveled food sullenly into his mouth, watching them with an undisguised bitterness.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Philip chuckled. "Richard can be so painfully pig-headed, and John... well, one grows tired of using smaller and smaller words until he finally understands." He sipped his wine. "You and I, though, we can see eye to eye."

"As equals?" Geoffrey looked dubious. "We aren't even close." He left it ambiguous as to whether he considered himself the superior of the two.

"Perhaps not," Philip agreed, smiling as though they shared a secret. "But we could be."

The wheels in Geoffrey's head spun more swiftly as he read every possible implication into those few words. Philip's support would be crucial if he was ever to reach any higher than he had - perhaps even to hold onto what he had already gained. Richard's power might be waning now, but he still had Eleanor's backing, for whatever that was worth. And to humiliate him by taking what he wanted most, the one he loved and could never have, was an added benefit. "We could," he agreed cautiously.

"Perhaps after dinner," Philip said under his breath, his smile never wavering for the benefit of the crowd, "we can proceed with more... private negotiations."

* * *

"You didn't tell me _he_ would be here." Geoffrey's hand stayed on the door, ready to throw it open again and leave.

"I don't need your permission," Richard grumbled from his seat. Candles lit the room with a warm glow, casting flickering shadows that made the figures on the tapestries seem alive.

"Geoff, don't go," Philip said smoothly. "Have another cup of wine. Come and talk with me - ignore him for the moment."

Geoffrey looked suspicious, but came and sat in the empty chair, accepting the wine that was offered but holding it at arm's length as though it might contain poison.

"I asked Richard here tonight," Philip explained, "so that he could see exactly what he's missing."

Geoffrey looked at his brother, who glowered back. "Why would you agree to that?" he asked him. "Have you developed a taste for suffering?"

"Haven't we all?" Richard asked with a shrug. "Let's have it out in the open for once. It's better than hiding behind a tapestry to learn how I'm going to be lied to and betrayed."

Philip moved to stand behind Geoffrey's chair, letting his hand drift along his shoulder. "I want you to be my vassal. I want you to do homage to me. I want... you."

"And you want Richard to watch."

"Which do you think will hurt him more?" Philip asked. From his position behind Geoff he could make eye contact with Richard, read every expression that crossed his face, and give him a secret smile. "Seeing how I favour you with titles and land, or how I favour you here?" His fingers trailed up the back of Geoff's neck, making him shiver. 

"What's to stop Richard from going to Henry and telling him everything?" Geoffrey asked, still stubborn despite his increasing arousal.

"What makes you think Henry would believe anything I say?" Richard said dryly. "You would just turn around and say I'm slandering you because I'm jealous."

Philip leaned down to put his lips close to Geoff's ear. "Do this for me," he murmured, "and I'll know you are mine."

Geoffrey turned sharply, grasping Philip by the front of his tunic and pulling him in for a kiss, hard and vicious. "Is that proof enough?" he asked, gasping.

"Not even close," Philip replied, licking his lips. "Get on your knees."

Without hesitation, Geoff sank to the floor, his knees cushioned by thick carpet. Philip circled him, stroking his hair before seizing a handful of it and yanking his head back. "Open your mouth," he told him, unlacing his tights.

Doing as he was told, Geoff's eyes slid over to Richard, who sat motionless, his hands gripping the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. "Let me help," Geoff said, reaching up to take Philip's cock in his hand. Philip nodded, but didn't allow him long to stroke it before shoving it into his waiting mouth. Geoff gagged on its length, but Philip didn't loosen his grip or permit him to draw back, forcing his way deeper instead. Unwilling to show weakness by struggling, Geoff had no choice but to swallow as best as he could.

"He's choking," Richard said, alarmed enough to rise from his seat.

"He's fine," Philip told him, breathing hard. "Show him you're fine, Geoff. Show him you want this."

Eyes watering, Geoff gave an almost-imperceptible nod, and then grasped Philip's arse with both hands to urge him on.

Philip thrust into his mouth, increasing his pace for a few more strokes, before drawing back and rubbing the tip of his cock along Geoff's parted lips. "There," he gasped. "Enough?"

"No," Geoff said, his voice hoarse. "I want more."

"You always want more," Philip teased him. "I could bring a dozen knights up here to fuck you and you still wouldn't be satisfied."

"He didn't get enough attention from Mummy and Daddy when he was little," Richard said, stepping to the end of the bed and leaning against it, arms folded. "He's desperate for anyone who'll tell him he's a good boy."

"Is that right?" Philip said, stroking Geoff's tousled hair. "Do you want to be good for me?"

"Yes," Geoffrey gasped.

Philip stepped back to stand beside Richard, removing his tights as he went. "Then crawl to me."

Geoffrey obligingly lowered himself to his hands and knees on the floor and crept towards the king. He tried to keep his eyes lowered, but couldn't resist glancing at his brother as he crawled closer. Richard looked uncomfortably stiff in more ways than one. When Geoff finally reached them, he stayed low, awaiting further instructions.

"Get your clothes off," Philip told him. 

Loosening his belt and tugging his robe off was but a moment's work for Geoff, and soon he was crouched naked before them. He couldn't help notice that Richard's gaze lingered over him, but darted away as soon as he became aware he was staring. "What now?" he asked Philip.

Philip turned to Richard. "What should I have him do?"

Richard looked startled. "Why are you asking me?"

"You aren't a bystander, Richard," Philip reminded him. "You're as implicated in this as anyone. You might as well at least take what you crave."

Richard cleared his throat. "I... I don't know..."

"Should I have him service you?" Philip asked. "He would, you know."

Geoffrey looked up at them both, sitting back on his haunches. "It wouldn't be the first time," he said with a smirk.

Richard blanched. "You swore you'd never tell anyone about that."

"I doubt he's going to tell anyone how he found out," Geoff pointed out.

"It was ages ago," Richard said to Philip. "Before us..."

"I don't care who or what you've fucked," Philip told him, stroking his arm. "Do you really think you need to justify yourself to me? The past is the past. Tonight you can take whatever you want. Or if you prefer, I can have him go back to sucking me. I'm not in a mood to be gentle, though."

Richard seemed to waver. "No..." He looked down at his younger brother, naked and unexpectedly vulnerable. "Have him do it."

"You heard him," Philip said to Geoff. "Hurry up."

Geoff scrambled to obey, and Richard did nothing to stop him. He allowed his brother to unfasten his belt and let it fall to the floor, lift his tunic, and reach into his tights. He gave a strangled little gasp when Geoff drew out his cock and lowered his mouth onto it. He knew that he ought to pull away in disgust, or at least to feel guilty for this, but the sensations and the thrill of power drove away those thoughts. "More," he moaned. 

Geoff sucked him clumsily but eagerly, and it didn't take long before Richard was clinging to the bed for support. When Philip leaned over and whispered, "You look beautiful like this," before kissing him, Richard couldn't hold back any longer. With a rough grunt, he pulled back to spurt onto Geoff's upturned face, smearing it with his seed.

Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, Geoff said, "When do I get my turn?"

Philip laughed. "Your turn? You can have your turn on my cock soon enough. Get on the bed, face down."

Geoff crawled his way to the edge of the bed and crept up onto it, positioning himself as he'd been instructed, waiting with his arse pointed into the air. Philip shed his tunic and produced a bottle of oil from his belongings, then climbed onto the bed, beckoning for Richard to join them. "Lie down," he offered. "Rest while I fuck him."

At the angle Richard was reclining, he could see Geoffrey's face more than he could see whatever Philip was doing to him. He didn't need to - his brother's expressions told him everything he needed to know. Geoff was flushed, sweaty, and his eyes were half-closed, but shot open when Philip's slicked cock began to ease its way inside him. "Relax," Richard murmured to him. "It'll only hurt if you tense up."

"I don't need... unh... your advice," Geoff gasped, bracing himself against the soft mattress as best as he could. "Do you tell that to all the boys you fuck?"

Richard reached out and grasped his brother by the throat, holding him tight without quite choking him. He forced Geoff to look at him even as he was having his arse forced open by Philip. "Only if I'm feeling kind."

Geoff didn't need to ask how often that was. "If you're feeling kind, then please... touch me," he whispered, barely able to breathe.

Philip was thoroughly sheathed in Geoff now, working his hips back and forth to loosen him up further. As he released his grip on Geoff's throat, Richard looked at him, seeing him not as the nervous boy he'd once been, but as a king, strong and powerful and dangerous. Geoff groaned at the delicious ache, grasping Richard's wrist tight. Richard pulled himself free, but then reached beneath his brother to stroke the hot length of his cock. 

"Yes!" Geoff cried, his face contorted with pleasure. Richard felt the sudden shuddering wave pass through his brother, felt the hot surge of his spunk all over his fist, and let go as though he'd been burned. He couldn't escape, though, as Geoff's biceps gave out under the force of Philip's thrusts and he landed on top of Richard's arm, pinning it in place.

"Hurry up," Richard snarled at Philip, who nodded and quickened his pace. It took only a half-dozen further strokes before he came, pulling free of Geoff's arse at the last moment to spray his load across his back instead. 

"Is that it?" Geoff mumbled into the pillow.

"I doubt it," Philip told him, collapsing beside him. "It's Easter - a fitting feast for a resurrection. I see Richard's halfway there already."

* * *

When they finally parted, the sky was beginning to turn grey with a hint of dawn. Richard made his way back to his room, feeling drained and sullied, but also triumphant. Geoffrey had been humbled - he had believed Philip's lies, and abased himself accordingly. Richard fell into his own bed, too exhausted to think any further ahead than that.

Philip did not sleep. Instead, he waited for Geoffrey to return, once Richard was safely gone, and slip into his bed. "I think," he said, "he bought it."

"Talk to me about it tomorrow - then make me your seneschal and watch the expression on Richard's face. I'll join you in Paris as soon as I can." Geoffrey pulled Philip into his arms for a kiss, too tired for anything further, and then withdrew to his own chambers.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


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